


SexyBack

by RosVailintin



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Crazy, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Everyone Except John in Sherlock's Mind Palace, Everyone Is Gay, Holmes Brothers, Jim Moriarty in Sherlock's Mind Palace, Loki is the other Holmes brother, M/M, Michael Fassbender character fusions, Moriarty is Alive, Moriarty is back, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Song Lyrics, X-Thor!lock, series 4 imagines, series 4 will not happen like this, song titles, very unserious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7599349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosVailintin/pseuds/RosVailintin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is gone. John is out. Mary is somewhere with her friends. Irene...I don't know. I'm so bored that I don't even wanna shoot the wall. Boring! BORING!</p>
            </blockquote>





	SexyBack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mionemrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mionemrys/gifts).



> Right...Hermione and I figured this stuff out the evening before (after I've finished my TEF and got a B2!! Yay!!), and I decided this should be written a fic...  
> It's just some crazy series 4 imagines 'cause I just watched the teaser that day and was like AWWWWWWWWW ANDREW IS BACK THE KING IS BACK AWWWWWWWWW so yeah. I'm just back from BHCC (and met a great fanartist!!) and here sitting in the Starbucks 15-minute walk from my home writing this shit instead of going home. Btw Beijing is burning today!! It must be at least 35℃ and it's ALL DAMN SUNNY!! I almost melted waiting for the subway (I gotta take line 13 and it's the only line that doesn't go underground and the station is like a huge melting pot and I feel like quoting the Boyzone song here). Right anyway, here we go!!

I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.

\- Lana Del Rey·Once Upon A Dream

* * *

Four years. Four years after the fall. And sometimes I still hear the gunshot.

Shit, I don't need him. He's dead, and I still lived for four years, and I'm fine now.

Well, am I?

'You're not allowed in; I haven't asked him yet!' I hear Mrs Hudson getting angry downstairs, 'It's MY flat, and YOU have to stay back, reptile!'

'Mrs Hudson?' I jump out of my armchair, 'Let the reptile in!'

Although I'm never expecting him to come, his arrival is after all better than -

'Well, well, brother mine!'

\- I take that back. Mycroft never makes things better for me. Look at his face, that sassy smile across his lips and the way his nose wrinkles. His eyes are shining, and that's not a good thing.

'How bored are you?' He goes on.

'You may leave the second word out.' I drop back into the armchair, 'Brevity, Mycroft, is the soul of -'

'How bored are you?' He repeats, the smile wider, as he fits himself into the seat facing me.

'You gained weight. The cushion didn't sink this much last time you sat on it.'

'Oh, Sherlock,' he frowns, 'how long ago was that? Three years?'

'George didn't say anything about it?'

'It's Greg.' My brother stares at me.

I look away, grinning. 'You're crash him if you don't -'

'Sherlock.'

'- go on a diet or work out -'

'SHERLOCK.'

'- to control your weight, I'm afraid -'

'SHERLOCK!' Mycroft gets up, his umbrella falling onto my neck.

Old trick, again. I stand up too, fetching the bow of the violin. 'You know this doesn't work for me.' My bowstring landsneath beneath his jaw, 'By the way, how does the string feel? It's a new one.'

'Oh,' Mycroft raises an eyebrow - even though his eyebrows are usually invisible, 'I'm so honoured.' He presses the umbrella harder against my skin.

'Are you trying to remind me of someone?' I whisper, tilting my head a little to move away from the umbrella. _I'm honoured._ How familiar it sounds, but there's no way that Mycroft should know it.

'Sorry?' He narrows his eyes, pouting, 'Is this one of your ways to distract me?'

'Oh, yes,' I roll my eyes, 'you don't know this. Of course you don't,' I say with a sneer, 'but you HAVE reminded me of a person that you and I both know pretty well.'

'Oh, really?' Mycroft leans in.

'Ugh, c'mon,' I raise my chin, 'admit that you have no idea who I'm talking about -'

'Oh, don't I?' He adjusts the position of his dear umbrella and holds it across my shoulders.

I put my free hand at the middle of it, 'You mind if I break it?'

'Dare you?' He pushes forcefully forward, almost breaking my balance and making me fall back into the armchair.

'Whoa, whoa, watch where you're going!'

'I know where I'm going.'

'No, you don't.' I slowly draw my bow back with the string scratching my brother's soft skin the same way it slides across the catguts, leaving a light red thread.

'Ugh...' Mycroft groans. I guess it hurts pretty much.

'You should know that if I fall back, you'll lose your balance too, because as you were pushing me, part of your weight was on me, and that's quite a lot, you know.'

'Just how bored are you,' he grabs my shirt collar and pulls me closer, 'to care so much about my weight?'

'Get your hand off my shirt.'

'It's Westwood?'

'No. It's never Westwood.' I whisper to his face in a dramatic sing-song voice, 'But I just want you to get your hand off it.'

He raises an eyebrow, then open his fingers and literally drops me. Huh, I'm ready for this. The moment he lets loose of me, I seize the bottom of his tie and push his umbrella aside with the bow, trap his left leg, drag him to the right to stand still myself, and watch his face twist and -

Right, he's supposed to land in the armchair, but somehow he doesn't. No time to wonder how. He uses the umbrella as a sword and is about to thrub it straight at me. I block it with the string, but it seems like horse's mane is too soft against the fabric of my brother's precious umbrella. He flips the bow over like flicking off a feather.

I raise my bow again, but then I just freeze there.

'What the heck, Mycroft!?'

My brother who is 7 years older than me begins knocking me everywhere non-stop with an old-fashioned long black umbrella, like a pre-school kid.

And shit, I just don't know where to defend. I just step back, and back, and back, and until my back hits the fireplace -

'My skull!' I shout.!

And he stops. 'I know you're not good at this. Not everyone has to be smart and professional, my dear brother.' He smiles.

'Oh, right, you taught me.'

I poke him in the waist with the tip of my bow. Of course, this is something I usually never do, for I'mtoo busy for it, but Jesus, it's fun. Mycroft ducks away like an orstrich jumping up and running away from icy water on its feet; I had figured out this weakness when I was 6. Mycroft was already as annoying as he is now, but once I stuck a finger out and put it near his waist, he would do anything I asked - well, if there was no one he could turn to around.

'Greg!' Cries Mycroft.

There suddenly opens the door, and Greg Lestrade is standing there, speechlessly staring at the two of us.

'Hope I didn't interrupt?'

'Don't just stand there, you idiot!' Goes Mycroft, 'Give hum a case!'

'Domestic discord? Not my division.' Greg put a hand on the door handle, 'Just to inform you that a guy wants to see you.'

'Who?' I frown, still holding the bow in the air.

'I don't know. He just said he wanted to see Mr Holmes.'

'Oh, what's wrong with you? I mean who's that guy?'

'He didn't want to reveal his name, but sure you know him.'

'Thank you, Inspector!' Despite my unsatisfactoriness of his work, I say with a smile as he closes the doir behind him.

'Haven't you told him how to do his job properly?' I hide the smile and demand Mycroft, 'Tell him when you go home, that if he provides information like this, I'd rather he says nothing.'

'At least he reminded you to get ready and not to be drunk.'

'That time was an exception, Mycroft.'

'Because you're both drunk?'

'No, it's -'

'And so you are not aware of how stupid you looked?'

'I am.' I approach my bow to him again.

'She told me your butt was -'

'MYCROFT!' I stabs him with the bow.

And bang! The door is slammed open, making a loud noise along with dog barks and a man's shout, 'Stop!'

I don't even have enough time to figure out who this man is, who he's shouting at or even just draw back my weapon before this Labrador Retriever run straight towards me and leaves a bite on my right leg.

I feel something rushing through my veins, and I begin to lose control of myself.

'Bunsen!' The man calls, and the dog let go of me. So Bunsen is the dog's name, and this dog probably belongs to the man.

'It's you!' Mycroft walks up to the man who I know I have seen somewhere before. And I have heard his voice.

'Sorry about Bunsen; he's a bit excited.' Says the man.

'Well, say that to Sherlock!' Mycroft turns on his heels and comes over to me. In my growing unconsciousness, he whispers to my ear, 'Do you remember Redbeard?'

Yes, damn, yes. And I feel it behind me.

Okay, at least I believe that Redbeard will not jump up and bite me. But wait, these two dogs is fighting each other! I'm not sure whether I should feel glad about this. Currently I'm losing sense of my feet and legs, and maybe I'll be on the floor a few moments later.

I've been here before. This feels familiar. Was it three years ago?

Then this man - Mr Crayhill, yes, the demon's barrister, however unharmful his cute smile looks, who keeps his name a mystery. He knows Mycroft, and he knows me, and he knows Jim. Great.

The storm in my brain is getting wilder and wilder, and I see a humanoid flying towards me, the entire body shining with the spark of metal, a cape across the shoulder fluttering behind.

My remaining sobriety tells me to exhaust almost all my force left and cry, 'Vision!'

Yet this humanoid goes, 'Fuck Vision!' Wait - it's a guy's voice - so it's Tony? 'I'm his father-in-law!' He continues.

Oh, okay, not Tony. Then it's him, yes, it's him. This accent, this way he cocks his head, 'Prof-'

Before I finish, he shouts even louder, 'Fuck Charles!' But what? I didn't mean Professor X, I mean - I stop falling. I'm not controlling this, but I just stop falling.

And this guy speaks, 'You know me as Magneto.'

'Oh, yes, Erik, of course. Thank you.' Then I pause for a second, stand still, and add, 'I meant to say Professor Moriarty.'

'Yeah?' Oh, alright, there he comes. He gracefully walks over, glancing around like the King, and eventually lands his eyes on me, 'But when do you start calling me Professor, Sherlock?' He looks up at me, tilting his head a little, 'Well haven't parted for this long, have we?'

He hasn't changed. After four years, it seems like he hasn't even aged.

Not getting an answer from me, he lowers his eyes and smiles to himself, then turns to the floating guy - I mean Erik Lehnsherr - and says, 'And you, Mag, come down.'

I wonder whether I'm once again in my mind palace. But anyway, he's back, so this should be finished now.

But no.

Far away a voice very elegantly slides in, 'Oh, here you are, my dear brothers!'

'Nothing for you here, Loki,' snaps Mycroft, 'go play with Thor.'

'I'm just so unwelcome?' Loki stands beside Erik and Jim, 'Or maybe you're about to do something that I'm not supposed to know?'

'It's been four years, honey.' Jim turns to face Loki, only a narrow space of roughly five inches between them, and stares up into his sharp blue eyes.

'Ah,' Loki let's out a little laugh, 'my apologies then.' He walks towards the open door.

At the doorstep, he looks back at me, 'And Sherlock, wake up.'

He shuts the door with a crispy sound.

Wake up.

'Wake up.'

'John?'

As I regain my sight, I find myself lying flat on the bed, John sitting beside me. His face is shining - literally shining, I mean.

'You put glitter on your face?'

'You gotta explain it to me, Sherlock.' He says, 'You met Mycroft, right? And Moriarty, right? Although you told me a thousand times that he's dead, but he's still alive inside you, right? And who's Erik? Who's Tony? Who's Loki?'

'What - how do you know them?'

John sighs, 'Just tell me, Sherlock,' he looks down firmly at me, 'how many other guys have you got in your mind palace and where am I in there?'

Seems like I should find a way other than drugs to kill my boredom. It's causing trouble now, because even I don't know how many people - not just guys - I've got in my mind palace that John doesn't get to meet in real world. They just show up from nowhere in my head.

'I thought you're serious, Sherlock.' He stands up, 'I'm sorry.'

**Author's Note:**

> So it's mind palace again because I don't know how to end it...(And this ending still doesn't look like an ending...) And why do I write this nonsense in such a serious tone!? Anyway...praying for the real S4. (THE KING IS BACK!!)


End file.
